


The epic battle over Mr Norrell

by Nefertiti_22002



Category: Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell (TV), Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell - Susanna Clarke
Genre: Anal Sex, Competition, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Oral Sex, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-23
Updated: 2016-01-23
Packaged: 2018-05-15 18:12:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5794615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nefertiti_22002/pseuds/Nefertiti_22002
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From a prompt on the kinkmeme back in June, when the TV series was running:<br/>"So there was a post on tumblr where someone described what Childermass and Lascelles were doing in last night’s episode was a mating contest type thing over Norrell’s affections, and I have been unable to get the thought out of my mind.</p><p>So they are doing the whole “I have most influence, listen to me” thing, but then sex happens.</p><p>Either Norrell with Childermass and Lascelles separately, or as a threesome with the two men glaring at each other and making Norrell just a confused puddle of need between them."</p><p>So that's basically what happens.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The epic battle over Mr Norrell

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Predatrix for comments and encouragement!

In January of 1810, the library at Hanover–square seemed to its owner to be a quieter and duller place that it had been just a few weeks earlier. Mr Norrell’s pupil Jonathan Strange had departed for the wars in Portugal, and perforce his lessons had been suspended until the hostilities should end. Ordinarily Mr Norrell enjoyed the peace of his library and the lack of a necessity to converse with anyone but his man of business, Childermass, or his very good friend, Mr Lascelles. And even them he conversed with only when necessary.

Still, Mr Strange was a different matter. He had swept dramatically into the room sixteen months earlier, revealing his magic and becoming Mr Norrell’s first and only pupil. The older magician found that he could talk freely and have marvelous discussions with Mr Strange in a way that he had never been able to with any one else. 

Now, seated at his large pedestal desk, with Mr Lascelles and Childermass at work in other parts of the library, he looked with unseeing eyes at the book he had been reading. How he missed Mr Strange! What a lovely man he was, with his flowing, curly hair and his strong hands and his … a lovely married man, he corrected himself dolefully. He snapped out of his reverie and wondered if he might not be able to slip away to his bedroom and secretly take care of the slight erection that had begun as he thought of his handsome pupil—as he so often needed to.

There was no time, though. A glance at the clock told him that there was only a short time before the five-minute warning bell for lunch would ring. He roused himself and went back to his reading. There was at least time for a few more pages.

After lunch, Mr Norrell went back to his book. He soon came to a passage that referenced another volume, but in an obscure way. He owned that other book, and rose to fetch it and find out the exact wording of the original text. As he scanned the shelves, he spotted the volume he was after in a place a little above his reach. He pulled the rolling stairway over and was about to ascend when he heard raised voices. As they did all too frequently, Mr Lascelles and Childermass were arguing. He was not sure what the subject of their contention was—some insolent remark from Childermass that had upset Mr Lascelles or some imperious comment from Mr Lascelles that had offended Childermas.

Mr Norrell paused with his foot on the first step of the stairway. As the voices became louder, he cried peevishly, “Oh, must you two quarrel so? On occasions like this you seem like two wild animals fighting.” He climbed up a few stairs and reached the volume he sought.

Childermass glanced at him and then looked back at Mr Lascelles with a sardonic smirk. “Yes, rather like two wild animals battling over a mate.”

Mr Lascelles stiffened and looked indignantly at him, but he quickly glanced over to see how Mr Norrell reacted to that remark.

Holding the book, Mr Norrell had turned back to them with a somewhat puzzled little frown on his face. He blinked several times and said, “Well, I suppose so, but really, Childermass, there is no need to belabour the simile. After all, I must admit that it was not a particularly witty or original one.” He started down the stairs again, carefully holding onto the book with one hand and the railing with the other.

Childermass continued to smirk at Mr Lascelles. “No, sir, but in this case it was a particularly accurate one.”

Mr Lascelles decided that he did not wish to pursue that line of conversation, so he sniffed contemptuously and went to sit at the table where he had been working. He had just officially become co-editor of THE FRIENDS OF ENGLISH MAGIC, alongside Lord Portishead. Now he was perusing the manuscripts for the upcoming issue of the journal, manuscripts which he hoped would make the tone of the publication lighter and more popular.

Childermass grinned after him. What he had begun to suspect was right. Mr Lascelles wasn’t just trying to exploit Mr Norrell’s friendship to build up his own fame and position in society. The little fop wanted the man himself. He had turned toward Mr Norrell to gauge his reaction, worried that he would catch the implication of Childermass’ enhanced simile and be indignant about it. 

Childermass realised that such a desire made sense. Mr Lascelles already had gained far too much influence over Norrell, and he had seen his chance to expand it when Mr Strange left for the Peninsula, creating an empty place in Mr Norrell’s life. Mr Lascelles knew quite well how Mr Norrell had doted on Mr Strange and indulged him in many ways that he would extend to no one else. He wanted to offer Mr Norrell what he had never gained from Mr Strange: his love, or at least physical pleasure that could pass for love.

Well, two could play at that game. He wouldn’t mind now and then getting his master into bed and fucking him silly. Not only would it be pleasant, but it might make the man a little better-tempered. Childermass knew that he was more genuinely fond of Mr Norrell than Mr Lascelles was—if Mr Lascelles was fond of the magician at all. Childermass had protected Mr Norrell for many years, and he reckoned that now he would keep him safe from this little swine. Just how he could do that, he wasn’t sure. Mr Lascelles had one enormous advantage over him: he and Mr Norrell belonged to the same class.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

A few days later, Mr Norrell was at his desk as usual in the middle of the afternoon, and Childermass was replacing some books on the higher shelves. Mr Lascelles entered in a great hurry, carrying a newspaper under his arm and looking very smug.

Mr Norrell looked up with a welcoming smile. “Good afternoon, Mr Lascelles. Am I right in suspecting that your new article has appeared?”

“Indeed, sir, indeed!” He came around the desk to stand beside Mr Norrell’s chair and waited as the magician cleared the center of the desk for him. He put the paper directly in front of Mr Norrell and stretched his hand out to open it to the relevant page. 

Mr Norrell placed his forearms on the edge of the desk and scanned the page, looking for the article, but suddenly Mr Lascelles sat down, balanced with his hip and thigh on the right arm of his chair.

Startled, Mr Norrell looked up at him and scooted slightly so the left. “Please, Mr Lascelles, feel free to draw up a chair for yourself. You need not perch in such an uncomfortable fashion.”

“Thank you, but I’m afraid my knees would bump up against your desk drawers and I would not be close enough to see the page. It’s only for a short time. I’m content here, with quite a pleasant view…” He looked down into the older man’s eyes for a moment with a fond little smile before concluding, “…of the paper, that is.” He gave an obnoxious little chuckle.

Obnoxious, that is, to Childermass, who had stopped his work to watch this little scene. He could see that Mr Norrell responded with a brief smile, and noted that the magician’s eyes slid over Mr Lascelles’ thigh, hip, and torso, only inches away, before he returned to reading the paper. He listened attentively, however, to Mr Lascelles’ explanations as to why he had included certain passages and what good they might do Mr Norrell with the public and with the government. Childermass suspected that Mr Norrell was very much enjoying Mr Lascelles’ proximity to him. He had even slid back to the centre of his chair. Mr Lascelles, that wretch, was making sure that his arm brushed against Mr Norrell’s shoulder occasionally.

Childermass decided that it was the ideal time to bring forth the item which he had held back for just such an occasion. A week before he had found a rare book that he knew Mr Norrell badly wanted. Upon returning to Hanover-square, however, he had not given it to him or informed him of it. Instead he had hidden it. He descended from the rolling stairway, returned to his desk and fetched the book from one of the drawers.

As he approached Mr Norrell’s desk, Mr Lascelles looked up at him. “What are you doing? Can’t you see that we are busy?” 

Mr Norrell, however, also looked up, and seeing the book in Childermass’ hand, asked with a puzzled little frown, “What’s that, Childermass? I don’t recognize it as one of mine.”

“No, sir, it is not. That is, it was not up until now. Forgive me for interrupting, but I know you will be pleased to see this volume, which I purchased from Mr Waterbury’s shop.”

Mr Norrell took it and opened it to scrutinise the title page. “Good Lord! I’ve been looking for this for such a long time. Thank you, Childermass!” He held the open book up so that Mr Lascelles could read the title. “Look, Mr Lascelles, Childermass has found me an extremely rare volume.” 

Mr Lascelles did not glance at the book but was staring daggers at Childermass. Mr Norrell did not notice this, instead hopping up from the desk and heading toward a bookshelf on the far side of the room. His departure from the chair made it tip sideways under Mr Lascelles’ weight, and he barely caught himself in time to avoid sprawling on the floor. 

Mr Norrell’s excited voice drifted back to them. “This supposedly contains a variant version of one of the more important illusion spells listed in Sutton-Grove. I must make a comparison to see if I can confirm that. Childermass, bring over that larger bookstand so that I may place them side by side.”

Childermass fetched the broad, sloping stand, placed it on the central table and arranged the two volumes as Mr Norrell wanted them. The two stood peering at the pages. Childermass asked a question, and Mr Norrell began one of his dry little lectures. He had clearly forgotten entirely about Mr Lascelles and his article. 

Childermass sidled as close as he dared to Mr Norrell, nearly but not quite touching him, and looked back over his shoulder at Mr Lascelles with a deliberately bland smile. Mr Lascelles scowled. Picking up the newspaper rather carelessly, considering that it contained his wonderful article, he went over to the small table by the fireplace where Mr Norrell kept his decanter of sherry, poured himself a stiff drink and sat down to read the other parts of the paper while waiting for Mr Norrell to return his attention to the laudatory article he had taken such trouble to pen.

Somehow the conversation about the new book lasted until Mr Norrell was summoned to dinner. The magician headed for the door, and Mr Lascelles stood up to intercept him.

“Ah, Mr Lascelles, you are still here. Thank you for bringing your article to me. I’m sure it will do great good for the image of English magic in the public eye. Just leave it on the sopha, please, and I shall read it more closely tomorrow.”

“I was hoping, though, to explain further …”

“Yes, well, come tomorrow at the usual time. This evening I wish to go on examining this book that Childermass so fortuitously discovered for me! Looking into it, it proves even more promising than I had dared hope.”

Mr Lascelles hid his disappointment from Mr Norrell, but he cast one last poisonous look at Childermass before tossing the newspaper on the sopha and departing.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++

The next day, Mr Norrell continued his study of the new volume, asking Childermass to bring him various other books that had some connection to it. He spent hours comparing them and making notes. 

“A fascinating source, Childermass!” He said at one point. 

“I’m delighted to hear that, sir, and very glad that I happened to find it.”

“Indeed. And as usual, Mr Waterbury did not charge an exorbitant price, considering its age and rarity.” 

Mr Lascelles did not appear until three o’clock in the afternoon. As was his habit, he brought some additional copies of the issue of the newspaper with his article. He managed to lure Mr Norrell into spending a half hour discussing the article, but the magician was now paying less attention, being much more concerned with getting back to his new book. He had largely lost interest in the article, which at any rate he had seen in draft when it had first been written. He again thanked Mr Lascelles for it and walked back toward the central table to resume his comparison of the many books Childermass had carefully arranged upon it. 

“I shall cut out some clippings and put one of them in the album of my writings, sir,” Mr Lascelles called after him. He was collecting all of his writings concerning Mr Norrell into an album for easy display to important people and hoped someday to assemble them as a book.

“Thank you, Mr Lascelles,” Mr Norrell replied, with a casual wave of his arm that looked very like a dismissal.

Childermass had to turn away to hide his glee.

The three continued their work for another two hours or so. At last Mr Norrell had come to a stopping point and pointed out the books he no longer needed, so that Childermass could return them to their places.

Mr Norrell abruptly noticed that Mr Lascelles was still present and vaguely felt that he might have been neglecting the man.

He crossed over to where Mr Lascelles was closing his inkwell and setting his papers aside in neat stacks. “Would you care to join me for a glass of sherry before you leave, Mr Lascelles?”

Mr Lascelles beamed, noting that Childermass was still carrying heavy volumes here and there and climbing the rolling stairways. He felt he might safely try to engage Mr Norrell in a more intimate conversation than usual.

“Thank you, sir. I shall stir up the fire a bit, and we can sit comfortably on the sopha, if you like.”

He used the poker to separate the burning logs a bit so that the flames leaped up higher. Ordinarily he would not have performed such a menial task, but he wanted Childermass to stay well away from him and Mr Norrell.

Mr Norrell sat near one end of the sofa, so that he could place his glass on the small round table beside it between sips. He was somewhat surprised when instead of doing the same at the other end, Mr Lascelles sat down in the middle, nearer to him than he was accustomed to sitting. He was even more surprised when Mr Lascelles leaned toward him slightly and rested his arm along the top of the sopha behind Mr Norrell’s head. He wondered about this new behaviour but could think of nothing to say concerning it or anything else.

Mr Lascelles stared peacefully into the fire for a time before remarking, “I must admire your absolute dedication to your work. To see the energy that you put into the investigation of a new book gives a fascinating insight into the effort you devoted to making yourself the greatest magician of the age.”

Mr Norrell considered this. “Well, I do enjoy such activity, to the point where often it does not seem like work at all. I must say, fulfilling the magical requests of the military gentlemen seems far more difficult to me, even though in a sense achieving such projects is rather less complicated than the spells I sometimes manage here. Indeed, I am often able simply to revise my spells for one assignment into new spells for later ones. It is usually quite uninteresting work, with, I must admit, occasional fascinating challenges. Oddly enough, though, such challenges can ultimately be less rewarding to me than some of the simpler ones I accomplish for my own pleasure. There are exceptions, of course …”

“Speaking of uninteresting,” Mr Lascelles thought, “I shall fall asleep or run mad if this goes on much longer.” He nodded sympathetically every now and then, trying to look fascinated and leaning imperceptibly closer and closer to Mr Norrell until their faces were only inches apart. If it hadn’t been for the presence of Childermass, he would have tried to kiss him and make a bit of progress toward his goal. He was tempted to give Mr Norrell at least a surreptitious peck on the cheek to alert the oblivious man to the fact that he was being courted and even, if he ever did notice, seduced.

Childermass had been watching all of this out of the corner of his eye. He was not worried about being able to cut off this little comic interlude, but he was interested in seeing how it developed.

Mr Norrell finally ran out of things to say about how interesting some of his work was and how uninteresting the rest of it was. He sighed and looked into the fire, casting covert glances at Mr Lascelles’ body and being quite glad that it was so close to his own and wondering why it was so close to his own.

Mr Lascelles rose and picked up Mr Norrell’s small sherry glass, carrying it and his own over to the decanter.

“I think I shall have a little more. Will you join me? It is such fine stuff. Just a trifle?”

Mr Norrell debated inwardly as to whether a trifle of sherry was a good idea or not. He did incline toward it, since it might make Mr Lascelles sit down close to him again. Possibly even closer.

Suddenly Childermass appeared in front of him. He said quietly and respectfully, “Mr Norrell, may I remind you that you must be at Lord Bickersteth’s home for dinner in just over an hour? I would suggest not taking more sherry now, since there will be drinks available there as well, and the occasion is apt to last rather a long time.”

Mr Norrell stared up at him. “Oh, heavens, I had forgotten!” He stood up and turned to address Mr Lascelles. “As you know, I am quite hopeless at remembering these social affairs. If I did not have Childermass, I should probably miss half of them, or at least be horribly late. And he is right, I really should not have more sherry, what with all the wine I shall be offered at dinner.”

Mr Lascelles was looking at Childermass, his face red and his lips pressed together.

Childermass pointed out, “It is time to start changing your clothes, sir.” He was very glad that he had had the foresight that morning not to remind Mr Norrell of his engagement for the evening, as he ordinarily would have done.

Mr Norrell moved toward the door but turned back to Mr Lascelles. “Are you going to Lord Bickersteth’s as well, Mr Lascelles? We could ride there together in my carriage, perhaps, and yours could follow after.”

Mr Lascelles concealed his anger at not being able to seize this opportunity to be alone with Mr Norrell in the dark interior of his coach. He sighed. “Alas, I have accepted an invitation to dinner elsewhere. Had I but known where you were dining tonight, sir, I should have accepted Lord Bickersteth’s invitation instead. I would very much have enjoyed riding with you. Thank you so much for the offer. Another time, I hope.”

With an obsequious smile, he turned and departed.

+++++++++++++++++++++

Such little tussles over Mr Norrell’s attention arose from time to time over the next few weeks. Usually Childermass was able to outwit his rival in some fashion, but he occasionally had to be away on errands. As he went about his tasks, he wondered what Mr Lascelles might even at that moment be doing to win Mr Norrell’s affection. Upon one such occasion he returned to find the two again seated close together on the sopha, with Mr Lascelles staring into Mr Norrell’s eyes with a devoted expression. His hand appeared to be straying toward the magician’s knee when Childermass came in, and Mr Norrell appeared not entirely unaware of it. Mr Lascelles abruptly straightened up and withdrew the hand, and Mr Norrell stood up to discuss the day’s business with Childermass and to enquire about the outcomes of his errands.

One morning Childermass decided it was time to end this nonsense. His decision resulted when another quarrel broke out between the rivals, and Mr Norrell anxiously tried to get them to go separately back to their work.

Childermass sighed with exasperation. “Come, come, gentlemen,” he said, “we all know what this conflict is about.”

Mr Norrell looked up at him, baffled. “Do we? And what is that?”

Childermass shrugged. “To be blunt, sir, we both want you!”

“Want me? For what? Oh! Surely you don’t mean … that you … you both wish to have amorous congress with me?” His face was bright pink by now.

Childermass smiled. “That is not quite how I would have put it, sir, but yes, that is exactly what we want.”

Mr Norrell began wringing his hands, feeling nervous and intrigued alike. To suddenly be wanted by two such attractive men who were willing to fight over him when neither had given the slightest hint of such a desire before ... How much more fortunate could he possibly get? 

“Mr Lascelles, is what Childermass says true?”

Mr Lascelles cleared his throat and sought to look as imposing as circumstances permitted. “Yes, sir, I admit it. And why should I not desire you, a close friend and supporter and admirer as I am? Not a mere servant.”

He and Childermass glared at each other.

“I see. Now let me understand. Would this be both of you being intimate with me at the same time? Or …”

Mr Lascelles was shocked and cut him off. “Certainly not! Heaven forbid! I cannot fathom how you could even contemplate being intimate with this dirty, low fellow. No, we would wish you to choose between us. Obviously you would prefer me, and me alone. Say so, sir, and this conflict will end, and your servant will be put in his place.”

Mr Norrell looked back and forth between them, hoping that making a choice would indeed resolve everything, though he suspected that it would not. Moreover, despite what Mr Lascelles had said, he found himself very much attracted to both. On the one hand, there was the elegance and grace and respectful admiration of Mr Lascelles. On the other, the strength and manliness of Childermass, who admittedly lacked elegance and was not always entirely respectful but was certainly … very strong and very manly. 

After a brief struggle with himself, Mr Norrell declared, “I am afraid I cannot decide between you. You will have to settle it for yourselves. I’m sure I could not say how. Perhaps with a duel?” he added, thinking hazily that that was how people seemed to handle conflicts over love.

Mr Lascelles snorted. “Hardly! I would consider it beneath a gentleman to duel with a servant.”

Childermass replied, “I am hardly eager to duel with you, either, Mr Lascelles. But this is not a matter of honour or revenge but of desire, and most particularly Mr Norrell’s desire. We are trying to determine whom he wants. What about a competition?”

Mr Lascelles stared at him suspiciously. “What sort of a competition do you have in mind?”

“Obviously we must vie to show which one is more skilled at providing physical pleasure.”

Mr Norrell’s eyes widened. “Really?” He gulped and smiled. “Well, do let me know how it comes out! I am sure I shall be pleased with whatever the result proves to be.”

He turned as if to leave, feeling that he should give them privacy to do whatever was needed to compare such skills. 

Childermass said quickly, “But you will need to be a part of the competition, sir, and you will determine its outcome.”

“Really? How so?”

“Well, we need to work out the specifics and the rules, but basically I assume we, um, perform various acts of increasing pleasure with you in stages, stopping to switch places with each other midway through each. That way you could make a direct comparison and decide which you prefer. Whoever received your approval on the larger number of stages would be the winner. If you agree, Mr Lascelles and I can work out some mutually agreeable premises, timings, and rules for the competition.”

Mr Norrell made a show of considering all this quite seriously, though in truth his mind was already made up.

“That sounds like an excellent plan to me,” he finally said. “But Mr Lascelles, would you be willing to demonstrate such skills physically? Especially with Childermass looking on, as I assume he would need to do, what with the timing and enforcement of rules.”

Mr Lascelles sighed with annoyance. “Ordinarily I would not consider such a thing, of course. Still, how else are you to judge between us, sir? It is your pleasure that I am concerned with, and so I am willing to stifle my scruples this once. Just as long as Childermass would not be demonstrating his dubious skills on me nor I on him.”

“Oh, yes? Very kind of you, I’m sure. Please, you two go ahead and do what you must in order for us to carry on.”

Childermass and and Mr Lascelles stepped over to Mr Norrell’s desk and began to confer. Mr Norrell wandered around the library, glancing over at them occasionally, unable to settle anywhere. He wished they would hurry, since he hoped that as part of this competition one or both of them could attend to the partial erection that had gradually formed in his breeches.

At one point Childermass left the room for a time, during which Mr Lascelles complimented Mr Norrell effusively about how generous he was being in tolerating this bizarre endeavour. Eventually Childermass returned carrying two small hourglasses. The two men wrote down a few more things on the sheet of paper and then approached Mr Norrell and handed it to him. It contained many scratching out and additions. Quite legible, however, was a list of five stages of intimate interaction, with timings. 

Childermass explained, “I have managed to get two timers from the kitchen, one running one minute and the other two minutes. Those intervals should be quite adequate for each of us to give you a sample of our abilities.”

The list ran thus: 

Kissing (one minute each participant)

Caressing and undressing (two minutes each)

Oral pleasure (two minutes each)

Rimming (two minutes each)

Sodomy (three minutes for the first participant, two minutes for the second)

Mr Norrell pressed one hand against his chest. “Oh, my dear Lord!” he said, in mixed disapproval and fascination. He had no idea what that fourth stage was, but he was not about to admit it. Something very disgraceful, no doubt. He would be very much interested in learning what it consisted of.

He looked up. “If these are the activities that you both agree to, then I bow to your superior knowledge of such things.” Something struck him as he studied the list. “Why does the first participant get more time for sodomy?

“You will see, sir,” Childermass replied. “That, by the way, is Mr Lascelles’ term. I tend to call it ‘buggering.’”

Mr Lascelles winced and said, “Mr Norrell, before we go any further with this, may I ask if you really would wish to be placed in such a very intimate situation that includes him?”

Mr Norrell was blushing again and very aware of his own arousal. “Well, it … it does seem to be a fairly objective way of going about making such a decision.”

Childermass nodded. “So, you agree …”

Mr Lascelles interrupted, “But, sir, it is not truly objective. It depends only on your own reactions to what we do to you.”

Mr Norrell looked at him with his “Please, let us be logical!” face. “Mr Lascelles, consider the nature of what we are proposing to do. This is not a competition to discover which of you is actually better at such things. It is a competition to determine which one’s skills please me more. I am the one who ultimately will enjoy the attentions of whoever wins. Only my reactions would matter in such a situation, and hence they are perfectly objective as to the question at hand.” He chuckled. “I like to think that I shall be the real winner in this competition, though more accurately I am the prize that will be won.”

Mr Lascelles smiled, seeking to hide his annoyance. “And a highly desirable prize you are, sir!”

Childermass rolled his eyes.

Mr Norrell chuckled and shook a finger in playful reproof. “Thank you, Mr Lascelles, but I am also the judge of this competition, and I do not believe you should try to influence me with flattery.” 

Childermass snorted slightly as he attempted to hold back a laugh.

Noticing this, Mr Norrell added, “Nor you, Childermass, for that matter.” 

“I wasn’t about to compliment you, sir, or try to influence you in any way. I shall win on my own account.” In fact Childermass wished he could compliment his master on his riposte to Mr Lascelles, that arch-flatterer. Plenty of time for his own praise of Mr Norrell later, though, after he had defeated this fop in the competition.

“Shall I outline the rules, sir?”

“I am all agog, Childermass.”

“All a-what?” Mr Lascelles interjected.

Childermass smiled condescendingly. “A Yorkshire expression, sir. It means Mr Norrell is eager to hear what we have devised.”

Childermass turned to his master. “Sir, each stage will involve a set period of time, divided equally between the two participants except, as you noticed, the last. As I mentioned, Mr Lascelles and I shall determine each period with these cooking timers. After both of us have had our turns in one stage, you must indicate which you preferred. You are not allowed to declare a tie. There being five categories, it will thus be impossible for a tie to result when the competition concludes. Who goes first at each stage will be determined by drawing straws. I should add that you may not yourself caress your current partner or in any manner take an active role in these activities. We would not want you to arouse one contestant more than the other or inadvertently hint at what you would like him to do to you. 

“Once you declare the winner, the loser undertakes henceforth to work in another room, say, the sitting-room, whenever the other is present in the library. And of course, he also forfeits any claim to Mr Norrell’s favours and agrees not to press his suit any further. In all other ways, the relations between Mr Norrell and each of the other parties will remain the same.”

Mr Norrell listened carefully and nodded at the conclusion. “That seems fair. It should stop the quarrelling, at any rate. Which is why I am agreeing to this entire unseemly proceeding, of course. When and where will this competition take place?”

Childermass asked, “When and where would you wish it, sir?”

“Why not right now, here?” he replied, looking back and forth between them with a delighted smile of anticipation.

Childermass laughed. “All right, sir. Your favourite sopha looks like a good place for the fifth and final stage to take place. Let me just step out and get a dust cover to throw over it, sir. You won’t want to leave a mess on your fine furniture. I’ll also fetch a few other things we shall need.” He stopped at the door and said to Mr Lascelles. “I should point out that you are honour bound not to try to influence Mr Norrell while I am absent.”

Mr Lascelles looked at him sourly but nodded. He and Mr Norrell spent the next several minutes wandering around, not saying anything and looking every where but at each other.

Eventually Childermass returned, threw the cover over the sopha and placed the other items on the small end table, alongside the small hourglasses. 

All three looked at each other awkwardly. Mr Norrell picked up the piece of paper with the plan. 

“We begin by kissing,” he reminded them. “And you draw straws to determine who goes first. Obviously I shall have to hold them. Is there anything we can use as straws?”

They looked around. There was a small hand-broom beside the fireplace, and Mr Norrell plucked out a few of its strands, arranging a long one and a short one in his hand, and held them out. Mr Lascelles won the right to kiss Mr Norrell first. 

He stepped closer to the magician with a confident smile and put his arms around him. Mr Norrell looked up expectantly. Mr Lascelles slowly lowered his head and pressed his lips softly against Mr Norrell. His mouth moved confidently, sucking at the lips in turn, opening slightly, pressing harder, and finally beginning to explore with his tongue in a firm but unaggressive way.

As Childermass watched, he realized that he was not as ready to see Mr Norrell in his rival’s arms as he had thought he was. It annoyed him, and moreover it worried him. There was no doubt that Mr Lascelles was quite sophisticated when it came to kissing, more so than he was himself. In fact, well before the minute was over, Mr Norrell was moaning faintly and even rubbing the front of his breeches against the other man—which technically broke the rules, though he seemed not to be aware that he was doing it. 

Despite his jealousy, Childermass noted with keen interest that his master was considerably randier and more responsive than he would have expected. All the more reason for him to do his best to win this competition.

When the upper globe of the small hourglass was empty and Childermass called time, Mr Norrell was panting as the two separated. Mr Lascelles, though slightly aroused, was mainly looking at Childermass with a complacent smile that reflected his confidence. 

Mr Norrell moved quite close to Childermass, who said, “Wait, we must set up the timing. Mr Lascelles?”

Mr Lascelles stepped across to where Childermass had stood and turned over the little glass. At once Childermass hugged Mr Norrell, drawing him up onto his toes as he began to kiss him avidly. Childermass knew that he would never achieve the polished skill that Mr Lascelles had used, so he could only hope that eagerness and passion would win out. Mr Norrell squirmed a little but tried to respond to the movements of his tongue. Soon Childermass realised, however, that he was not so much exciting Mr Norrell as overwhelming him. 

He relaxed slightly and drew his tongue back to play more softly with Mr Norrell’s. The man grew more cooperative then, and clearly enjoyed the kiss more, but it was too late. Once Mr Lascelles had called time, the two stepped apart. Mr Norrell was still panting slightly, and he cleared his throat.

“I believe that Mr Lascelles wins that round. Well done! But do not worry, Childermass, we have only just begun.”

“Of course, sir,” Childermass said, mentally trying to modify some of the strategies he had planned for the upcoming stages.

Again Mr Norrell held up the two straws, and this time Childermass won first go. He tried to tone down his previous impetuousness, kissing Mr Norrell more softly and licking his neck and chest as he unbuttoned his vest and shirt and drew them open to suck his nipples. He lowered Mr Norrell onto the sopha and sat beside him, unbuttoning the packet of his breeches. As he resumed kissing Mr Norrell’s torso, his hand slid down to cup and squeeze Mr Norrell’s buttock and continued down the thigh and knee, unbuttoning the side slit of his breeches. 

Mr Norrell was responding well, moaning and whimpering under his caresses and becoming lost in a haze of arousal. He jerked and squeaked when Childermass pulled his breeches partway down and cupped his erection through the smallclothes. By the time Mr Lascelles signaled the end of the two minutes, Mr Norrell was panting hard, and he groaned in disappointment as Childermass stopped touching him.

Childermass stood up, feeling that he had acquitted himself well. He was quite aroused himself and wished that this whole thing was over already and that he could take Mr Norrell to bed, but he had much to accomplish before that could happen. He willed his erection away so that he could effectively think about the stages still ahead of them.

“Now you must get dressed again, sir.”

Mr Norrell opened his eyes blearily. “Why? Let’s just get on with it!”

“Because this stage of the competition includes undressing. Mr Lascelles must start at the same point I did, you see. With you fully clothed. That’s only fair.”

“Oh, all right.” Mr Norrell said fretfully. He stood up and began to pull up his breeches, which were bunched down around his thighs. “Will you help me fasten the buttons?”

Finally Mr Norrell was back in his fully clothed state, though he was looking a little less eager and distinctly more disheveled than before. Childermass turned over the glass, and Mr Lascelles stepped up to Mr Norrell.

The second half of this event followed the pattern of the kissing competition. Mr Lascelles smoothly led Mr Norrell to sit down and began to kiss and caress him, skillfully loosening his cravat, vest and shirt, all the while licking his ear and grazing his fingertips very softly across his nipples. He did not undo the buttons of the breeches, but again used light, skimming strokes of his fingers over the front of the placket, sending sharp, fleeting pleasure through Mr Norrell’s swelling member. By the end, Mr Norrell was writhing and moaning with increasing need. 

Childermass stopped them after two minutes, feeling far less confident than he had when Mr Lascelles’ turn had begun. Mr Norrell was squirming slowly on the sopha, biting his lower lip. He looked even unhappier to have his pleasure abruptly interrupted than he had before.

Childermass said soothingly, “Now, Mr Norrell, you must try not to come yet. If you do, we would not able to complete the five stages. In fact, to be totally fair, we would have to start the whole competition over again, probably not until tomorrow.

Mr Norrell was still shifting anxiously, although his erection was diminishing noticeably. “Would that be so bad? No hurry, really!”

“But you see, if you always come in the middle of the thing, we shall never finish, no matter how many times we start over. You want the question to be resolved, do you not?”

Mr Norrell sat up, very sweaty and grumpy by now. “Well, if this sort of interruption would keep happening, then yes, I do want a resolution. Particularly my own,” he added, glancing down into his lap.

The two rivals stood silent, waiting for Mr Norrell to regain enough control of himself to give his verdict. “Mr Lascelles wins,” he said breathily. “Can we start the next part right away, please?”

Childermass said, “Of course, sir.” He turned to Mr Lascelles. “We didn’t decide how to start this stage. Should we just leave him partially undressed and begin from there? The point is now simply how well we pleasure him with our mouths.”

“I agree, let’s start as he is. He looks to be in no state to help us to draw straws. Let’s just alternate going first from this point on. My turn this time, then?”

“Fine, that makes it easier. Do you think he’s calm enough now to start?”

“Well, let’s just take note of the size of his erection so that we can get it to that same point before your turn.”

Childermass began to realise that this was a bit hard on Mr Norrell, who was slumped on the sopha eyeing them suspiciously.

“All right, sir?” he said. “I’m sure you will enjoy this next part. But again, we mustn’t bring you to climax, and if you feel yourself on the edge, well, I guess, warn us.”

Mr Norrell frowned. “I didn’t know that this whole event was going to be so very frustrating.”

“I’m sorry, sir, but I assure you, whichever of us wins will bring you off, and you’ll come so hard that it will all be worth it.”

Mr Norrell smiled weakly. 

Mr Lascelles opened Mr Norrell’s placket and pulled his smallclothes down. He and Childermass tried to take note of the degree of the man’s arousal, though Mr Norrell shied away when Childermass approached him with a ruler. The two contestants agreed upon a visual estimate, and Childermass turned over the two-minute hour-glass.

As expected, Mr Lascelles was skilled at giving pleasure orally, licking and kissing the shaft and tip with the same teasing gentleness that he had used before. As Childermass watched, however, he suspected that he had more often been on the receiving than the giving side of this arrangement. For one thing, he couldn’t get his mouth much further down than the crown of the cock, and he didn’t pay much attention to the testicle sac. Childermass began to have hopes that he could possibly catch up and even perhaps surpass his opponent. He would have to, since if Mr Lascelles won a third time, it would all be over. He had promised that the winner would finally bring his master to climax, and he dreaded watching Lascelles do so, no doubt gazing triumphantly at Childermass as he did.

Mr Norrell was enjoying Mr Lascelles’ attentions, but he was nowhere near his fulfillment by the time the two minutes were up. After Mr Lascelles withdrew his mouth, Mr Norrell squirmed and complained again about having to pause and wait for his arousal to fade away.

As Mr Lascelles withdrew and stood up, Mr Norrell looked up at the two of them, panting and frowning, but he made no remark. He looked around the room, trying to think of anything but pleasure. Eventually his erection reached approximately the size it had been when Mr Lascelles started. 

Childermass knelt and began by thoroughly licking and kissing Mr Norrell’s nearly flaccid member. He reached up and gently pinched both of the man’s nipples, since there was no rule against supplementary caresses. Mr Norrell began to breathe deeply and soon began to whimper softly. By this point his erection was returning, and Childermass lowered his mouth over the tip and well down the shaft, swirling his tongue around it and sucking gently. Mr Norrell gave a yelp of surprised pleasure and opened his eyes to look down at Childermass—something he had not done during Mr Lascelles’ turn.

Childermass looked up at him and smiled around his shaft. Mr Norrell smiled in return and watched as he slowly withdrew, again kissing and licking the shaft up and down, tickling Mr Norrell’s balls and rolling them as he again sank slowly down onto the cock and sucked. His aim was to bring the man nearly to climax by the end but to avoid accidentally sending him over the edge. Mentally he was trying to count out the two minutes while managing to concentrate on what he was doing. When he reckoned that the time was nearly up, he took nearly the whole length into his mouth and sucked a few times, withdrawing only a little way in between. Mr Norrell was whimpering by now and wordlessly pleading for relief, his eyes screwed tightly shut as he approached it. Childermass felt dreadful having to withdraw and leave his master in this state, but the goal was worth it. He just hoped that Mr Norrell would not be so upset at having his pleasure snatched away yet again that he would award the round to Mr Lascelles.

Just as he was afraid Mr Norrell would climax, Mr Lascelles called time. Quickly Childermass withdrew and stood up. Mr Norrell’s face was twisted with need, and he cried out, “No, don’t stop. Please! Keep going!” When nothing happened, he calmed a little and opened his eyes. “Not again!” he muttered.

“Now, now, sir, you know we planned it this way. Be patient.” Childermass was grinning, for he saw the annoyance in Lascelles’ eyes and knew what Mr Norrell’s verdict would be.

“Well, sir?” he asked. “Which of us would you rather have do that to you?”

Mr Norrell took a deep breath. “Childermass wins this time. What’s next?”

“Rimming, sir. We should again wait an interval for you to calm down, and besides, from this point on you should probably be entirely out of your clothes. Do you agree, Mr Lascelles?”

Mr Lascelles frowned thoughtfully. He in fact knew hardly more about what rimming was than did Mr Norrell. What little he had heard about it sounded rather unpleasant, and he had never sought to try it. He had suggested that the two take turns going first in each event primarily because he wanted to learn from watching Childermass just how to pleasure a man in this way.

“Um, yes, definitely out of his clothes.”

When Mr Norrell had finally, regretfully, lost his erection yet again, he undressed completely. He was rather embarrassed, especially as the other two were still largely clothed. Still, frustrating though their interactions had been so far, he also had to admit to himself that they had been marvelous while they lasted. He tried to focus on the end of it all, when he finally could gain relief. Besides, it was now time for him to learn what this mysterious “rimming” was. He was a bit nervous about it.

Childermass noticed this and said, “Do not worry, sir. You will find this entirely pleasurable, I believe. Don’t you think so, Mr Lascelles?”

Mr Lascelles looked startled but quickly assumed a confident smile. “Oh, undoubtedly you will, sir.”

Childermass considered for a moment and then moved the small end table away and replaced it with a straight chair facing the end of the sopha. He arranged Mr Norrell so that his lower back and buttocks were propped up on the slightly diagonal, padded arm of the sofa. Childermass guided him to bend his legs and hold them slightly apart. Sitting down in the chair, Childermass judged he was in a perfect position to reach his master’s cleft with his mouth.

“Sir, if your legs begin to feel tired or strained, grab onto your knees.”

“Childermass, this is the most awkward, most ridiculous position! I can’t imagine why you would put me in such an embarrassing—Oh, my good Lord!”

Childermass had stretched Mr Norrell’s arsehole sideways with his thumbs, stuck his tongue against it and begun to flick the tip across the small, wrinkled opening. He did this again and again, causing Mr Norrell to emit little whinnying noises and murmur, “Oh, yes” at intervals. Childermass varied his caresses by sliding his whole tongue up the cleft before concentrating on just the opening once more. Eventually he was able to push the very end of his tongue inside, and Mr Norrell’s body jerked and he whinnied even louder.

During all this, Mr Lascelles had looked on, appalled, growing pale as he realised what he was going to be required to do. “Rimming.” It sounded such an innocent word and yet … He stared in horrified fascination. He could tell that this was one thing at which Childermass was probably very good. Not surprising, considering his low upbringing. The working classes probably did this sort of thing all the time. He wished he had known enough to forbid putting it on the list. He sneered but could not tear his eyes away. Indeed, he missed by nearly a minute the point at which the upper half of the hour-glass emptied—an oversight for which Mr Norrell would have been quite grateful, had he known. Finally Mr Lascelles noticed and announced the end.

Mr Norrell was nearly speechless with pleasure, but he gasped out, “How soon can Mr Lascelles take his turn? I haven’t come, and it doesn’t really matter, does it? It’s just about how good it feels!” he said eagerly. He turned and looked up expectantly at the ashen-faced man.

Childermass noticed Mr Lascelles’ discomfiture and suspected its cause. “Come, Mr Lascelles, you are next. What position would you like Mr Norrell to assume? Kneeling on the floor and leaning over the couch, with his bum conveniently facing you? As he is? In some other fashion?”

Mr Lascelles couldn’t and wouldn’t face it. After all, Childermass was very likely to win this particular event even if he could bring himself to lick Mr Norrell’s … He shuddered. The score would be two each. He could not believe that he would lose the final test, since he was quite experienced at sodomy. Surely his skill and finesse would again win out, as they had twice already.

“I … I admit that I am not particularly fond of this activity. It is for low people, in my opinion, and I regret having agreed to let Childermass put it on the list. But I did agree, so I shall simply forfeit in this case, and we can proceed immediately to the last event.”

Mr Norrell gave a little groan of disappointment. Childermass was tempted to tell him that once he had won the competition, he would be happy to provide a good deal more of the same. That would be bribery, however, so he staunchly resisted influencing the judge—a judge who was sitting, sweaty and looking thoroughly debauched, in a daze of frustration and lingering arousal.

“Cheer up, sir. We’re near the end, and you’ll get what you need soon. In fact, I think you deserve a little treat. Shall we?” he said to Mr Lascelles, and without waiting for an answer, he began to undress.

Mr Lascelles had little choice but to nod and quickly remove his own clothes. 

Mr Norrell wished they had disrobed one at a time so that he could catch every new revelation. Once they were done, he focused intently on their pricks. He thought with a little smile, “It’s a good thing for Mr Lascelles that a comparison of sizes is not part of the competition!”

Mr Lascelles was gazing down at Childermass’ member in some annoyance, while Childermass had merely glanced at his and was struggling not to look conceited.

Mr Lascelles reassured himself that it was skill rather than size that mattered in this sort of activity. Well, no, size mattered. He noticed that Mr Norrell was now staring quite openly at Childermass’ crotch, and he obviously liked what he saw. For the first time Mr Lascelles lost some confidence about the final result of the competition.

Childermass turned to Mr Lascelles. “All right, sir, we’re around to you again to start. How shall we go about preparing him? We made no plan for that. I don’t think whoever does it should finger him too deeply, hoping to gain some advantage by that. I assume you know what I mean. Would you trust me to do it, or shall we take turns on this as well?”

“I think it would be too elaborate to take turns. I shall trust you to do the job, but of course I shall be keeping a close eye on you.”

“Don’t worry, if I touch that spot inside, he’ll let us both know.”

A jar of salve that Childermass used when he was pleasuring himself was among the things he had brought, and now he opened it.

“Kneel on the sopha facing the rear, sir, and rest your chest on the back.”

“Like this?”

“Yes. Now, knees far apart. Fine. Mr Lascelles, if you want him to take a different position, feel free, but I think this is easiest for the preparation.”

“No, where he is is fine with me.”

“Now, sir, this will feel quite odd, and it may hurt a little. Let me know if it does.”

He proceeded to prepare Mr Norrell slowly and carefully, stretching and circling his finger shallowly for the most part and invading further only by pressing along the back of the tight channel. 

Mr Norrell knew enough about this next stage to realise that an erect member would not go inside him easily, and he patiently waited while Childermass worked, occasionally sighing or wincing, at which points the man paused. It took nearly ten minutes, but at last Childermass was confident that he had done all he could. 

For a moment he felt a pang of sadness that Mr Lascelles should be the one to take Mr Norrell’s virginity. Still, at this point he could hardly change the terms he had agreed to. “It will all be worth it,” he assured himself. “It’ll be the one and only time that fop ever has him, and at least he won’t be the one to bring him off.” If all went well, he would be the first to make his master come, which cheered him up considerably.

Mr Lascelles coated his erection liberally with salve, and he went in slowly and carefully. He had to pause several times, but by the point where he was nearly halfway buried, Mr Norrell seemed reasonably comfortable having him inside. Mr Lascelles began to pump with short strokes, working gradually in.

Childermass realised that Mr Lascelles was at a disadvantage, having gone first. Even having an extra minute was probably not enough time to make up for it. The second man would obviously be able to go in more quickly and get more done in the time allotted him. On the other hand, it occurred to him, his cock was so much bigger than Mr Lascelles’ that he would have to go very carefully as well. On the whole, he was glad that he was going second.

He had noticed that Mr Lascelles wasn’t thrusting at a very effective angle and that he made no effort to shift his own or Mr Norrel’s positions. Mr Norrell grunted and moaned a few times, his body twitching, but in general Mr Lascelles wasn’t striking his pleasure point with most of the strokes, and certainly not as hard as he might. He was just depending on thrusting as long as it took. Mr Norrell was enjoying the experience, keening softly, but at this rate it would take him a long time to come.

The rivals had agreed not to touch Mr Norrell’s cock during this stage, in case it might cause him to climax before one of them had won the competition. This prohibition put Mr Lascelles at another disadvantage. Childermass suspected that ordinarily he mainly depended on stroking his partner’s prick to finish the job. He shook his head slightly.

Again, Mr Lascelles certainly didn’t bring Mr Norrell anywhere close to coming by the time the glass ran out.

Mr Norrell remained where he was. Childermass leaned over him. “All right, sir?”

Mr Norrell nodded. “I know, we wait yet again,” he said glumly.

“Yes, but it’s the last time.”

Mr Norrell did not lose his erection as fast this time, but eventually Mr Lascelles agreed that his member was flaccid enough to allow Childermass to take his turn.

“For Mr Norrell’s sake, I assume I may use this on him again before we start the time running,” Childermass said, holding out the jar of salve.

Mr Lascelles nodded, feeling that he had performed well this time and had a very good chance. After all, he apparently had not hurt Mr Norrell, which was quite creditable under the circumstances, and the man had seemed to be enjoying the experience. He suspected that Childermass, with that indecently large member, would hurt Mr Norrell and thus be unable to make him happy.

Childermass liberally smeared the salve around and into Mr Norrel’s entrance, which was slightly swollen by this time. He also coated his member, which luckily was not quite fully erect. He reckoned that would make it easier to get inside without hurting his master, at least too much.

Forgetting about the sand running through the hourglass, he went very slowly, stroking Mr Norrell’s hips soothingly. He paused frequently and was only a short way in when his master jerked and gasped. “Oh, God, yes!” he cried, wriggling back against Childermass in an effort to repeat the searing pleasure. Childermass smiled and began to rock his hips, not pushing much further in, but going quite quickly. He was evidently positioned with the tip nudging into the sensitive area with each forward movement. Soon Mr Norrell was gasping and keening and begging for more.

“Almost there, sir!” Childermass shouted over his noisy reactions.

“I’ve BEEN almost there. I want to BE there!”

Suddenly Childermass realised that he should slow down, that he wasn’t allowed to bring Mr Norrell to climax during his allotted two minutes. But he couldn’t bear the thought. The man was getting so close and was so excited, his face twisted in ecstasy, his hands clutching the cloth of the sofa and his cries and groans mounting in pitch. Childermass slowed slightly, realizing that all he has to do was keep Mr Norrell from coming before the time ran out, which surely would be any second now. 

Almost at once he dimly heard Mr Lascelles call out, “Time’s up. Stop!” 

“No!” wailed Mr Norrell. 

Childermass kept thrusting and looked at Mr Lascelles, who was scowling. “It’s over, Mr Lascelles! No point in stopping now. Do you think he would thank you?” he added, gesturing toward Mr Norrell.

Mr Lascelles sighed in frustration and shouted, “The round is over, Mr Norrell. Who won?”

Despite his own approaching climax, Childermass laughed. “Who do you think?”

Mr Lascelles ignored him, and shouted again, “Mr Norrell, who won?”

Childermass doubted that Mr Norrell could even hear the man, but his master gasped out, “Childermass … faster!” He was probably urging Childermass on rather than declaring him the winner—but either way the outcome was by now so obvious that Mr Lascelles backed away and let them continue.

Childermass reached around and grabbed Mr Norrell’s bobbing erection, squeezing it as he thrust harder. At once Mr Norrell uttered an enormous groan followed by a series of hoarse moans as his spasms sent spurts of his seed against the cloth draped over the sopha. His channel clutched rhythmically on Childermass’ shaft, and that sent him toppling effortlessly over into bliss. His breath hissed between his teeth as he finished and inhaled deeply.

He leaned forward against Mr Norrell’s back but did not put any weight on him. The magician was resting his chin on the top of the sopha, and had Childermass not held him up, he would have collapsed.

“Hand me that cloth,” Childermass said to Mr Lascelles.

The man bristled at being ordered about by a servant, but looking at Norrell, he turned and passed the cloth to Childermass.

Childermass quickly wiped himself and Mr Norrell, removing the worst of the mess as the man lay limply draped over the top of the sopha, his arms hanging down at the back. He was still panting with his eyes closed. Finally Childermass stepped back and moved to the table, wetting another cloth from a pitcher. He returned to Mr Norrell and cleaned him more thoroughly, being particularly gentle on the swollen puckers around his slightly gaping entrance.

“Does that hurt, sir?”

“It’s sore.” He lifted his head and turned it to smile at Childermass. “But it was worth it.”

Childermass pressed the cool, wet cloth to Mr Norrell’s cleft and held it there. “Better?”

“Mmm, that feels nice.”

“We’ll do something more about it in a little while, sir.” 

Mr Norrell made an effort and managed to swivel and sit down hard on the sopha. He winced. Childermass pulled his master against himself in a gentle embrace. There was a small lap blanket folded neatly over the arm at the far end of the sopha. Childermass stretched his long arm out without disturbing Mr Norrell and grabbed it, unfolding it and draping it around Mr Norrell to restore his modesty and warm him up. Mr Norrell cuddled closer to him with a pleased little sigh.

At this point they both recalled that there was a third person in the room.

Mr Lascelles had resumed his clothes and stood watching them. To his credit, he did not claim that Childermass’ refusal to stop fucking Mr Norrell at the end of the final stage meant that he had lost. Their climaxes had so clearly arrived well after the two allotted minutes had passed. The man summoned what dignity he could.

“Mr Norrell, this was a fair competition, and I am at least glad that the rules were obeyed throughout. I trust that we shall remain friends and colleagues as before. For my part, I could not help but be your devoted admirer. I cannot say that I agree with your choice, but I shall abide by it.” His lip curled briefly in a slight sneer as he glanced at Childermass. 

Mr Norrell sat up straighter. “Thank you, Mr Lascelles. I am glad to see you so gracious about all this. Certainly we shall remain friends and colleagues. I shall have Childermass put a very nice desk and any other furniture you need in the sitting-room and rearrange things so that you should be able to work there comfortably when necessary.”

“Thank you, sir. Good night,” Mr Lascelles replied, and he went out.

Childermass looked around and noticed the pitcher on the little table. “Um, I’m afraid I cleaned us with the water that you had set aside for casting your spell this evening.”

Mr Norrell, who had resumed cuddling against him in a way that Childermass knew he would always treasure, said, “That is quite all right. I don’t think I have the energy to cast that spell anyway. I can do it tomorrow. I shall just read here quietly after dinner and perhaps go to bed early.”

“Very good, sir. I shall join you, if you wish.”

Mr Norrell looked up at him. “Reading here or going to bed?”

“Either one or both, whatever you prefer.”

Mr Norrell smiled at him adoringly. “Both.” 

“Mmmm, thank you.”

Childermass was still completely naked, and Mr Norrell’s eyes slid slowly down his body. He said, “Maybe tomorrow we can have amorous congress again.”

Childermass laughed. “Yes, and remind me to teach you some other words to describe such acts. Tomorrow will probably be too soon for us to repeat buggering, as you’ll still be sore. But what would you think about us exploring the third stage together?”

“Oh, yes, that was very nice! That was the first time you won.”

“So you noticed.”

“Of course! I must say, I do not think that I was partial or unfair in any of my decisions, but even though Mr Lascelles was quite good in the beginning, by then I was already hoping that you would win.”

Childermass put his fingers under Mr Norrell’s chin and raised it so that he could look into his eyes. With a fond smile he said, “Were you really?”

“Yes, really.”

“Why?”

“Well … I like you more. The pleasure is wonderful, and Mr Lascelles really is quite good at some of the things we did and certainly acceptable in others. Still, when I imagined cuddling afterwards, I knew that it would not be nearly as lovely with him as it would be with you.”

Childermass hugged him close. “I’m afraid I wasn’t very good at kissing, but at least I know what I did wrong. I must admit, I learned something from Mr Lascelles today—how to start out gently and build up slowly.”

Mr Norrell nodded, “Yes, he is quite good at that, but you are much better at … what did you call it?”

“Buggering?”

“Yes, that. You are excellent at that!” He sighed reminiscently. “While we were doing all those things, I wished I could touch you, but now I’ll be able to do that.”

“And where do you want to touch me?”

“Lots of places, but especially your … member.”

“I shall be very happy to let you do that and to show you ways to use your hands and mouth on it. And teach you some other words for it, too.”

Mr Norrell said happily, “In fact, we can do all the other stages as well.”

Childermass kissed his forehead. “Yes, and no stopping in the middle.”


End file.
